


I like me better when I'm with you

by EneriMess, Nigg



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Kallurance - Freeform, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Post canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 19:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EneriMess/pseuds/EneriMess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigg/pseuds/Nigg
Summary: There are minutes that never flow. Standing in front of a taken bathroom, a lunch cooking too slowly, waiting for someone to come home.Lance has changed the bedsheet twice, prepared some finger foods with recipes he learned from Hunk (but you can sense the McClain’s touch at the first taste) and he has looked at the first of Becrilia’s two sunsets by himself.





	I like me better when I'm with you

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [I like me better when I'm with you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793545) by [EneriMess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EneriMess/pseuds/EneriMess). 



> Many, maaany thanks to Nigg for this translation!

_Stay awhile, stay awhile_  
_Stay here with me_  
_Stay awhile, stay awhile, oh_  
_Stay awhile, stay awhile_  
_Stay here with me  
_ _Lay here with me_

[I like me better - Lauv]

  


There are minutes that never flow. Standing in front of a taken bathroom, a lunch cooking too slowly, waiting for someone to come home.

Lance has changed the bedsheet twice, prepared some finger foods with recipes he learned from Hunk (but you can sense the McClain’s touch at the first taste) and he has looked at the first of Becrilia’s two sunsets by himself.

The second is about to start when the apartment’s door opens and he is on his feet in an instant. “You are late!” he yells with the excitement of an hairy pet.

He is not hiding really well his restless enthusiasm, flailing his limbs and blabbering about the dinner being ready, the bed smelling of laundry, their perfect evening waiting for them. He notices Allura and Keith stretching their lips into polite smiles, tired, just to make him happy, but he is excited all the same.

“Lance,” Allura says soothingly, rolling and slurring the ‘a’ in his name more than usual. “Let me have a shower and then I’ll try whatever food you prepared,” she promises with the sweetness of a forehead kiss, walking away.

Lance doesn’t give up and offers to massage her shoulders with one of his scented body wash, but Keith grabs him from the collar of his shirt and huffs a “Help me,” that makes him stop from following the princess.

Between a piece of armor and the next, a faint kiss and Lance’s head leaning on his shoulder, Keith’s hands on his waist, the Paladins catch up on their respective missions. Surprisingly, everything is going smoothly. Eight months after the _end_ , the Universe seems to be willing to follow the peace route. Despite someone still wakes up in the middle of the night because of a memory turning into a nightmare, those kinds of news do help.

“Everything is fine,” Keith repeats, his voice low, caressing and, even more so, sure; he rubs his cheek against Lance’s hair and Lance’s smile is on the cusp of a relieved laugh. He has waited six days for their return, three more than he was supposed to, and now he just wants to have them, with every one of his senses. See them, listen to them, touch them, talk to them, inhale their scents and maybe later, if they’ll want to, taste them.

_On a full stomach, everything seems better_ , or at least that’s what his mother and grandmother used to say, even if Lance sometimes skips a meal out of distraction. But since he has started living with Keith and Allura, he is more careful because he has to follow Keith when he prefers to train and go straight to sleep instead of eating. With Allura, things are simpler: if the food is from Earth, she’ll eat it all with enthusiasm, losing herself in talking about the savor in a way that could shut the most picky of the food critics, and at the same time making Lance feel like a starred chef (and her Altean similes, to which the blue Paladin can just nod, only make the atmosphere fizzier).

All in all, living together with them made Lance discover the many sides of preparing a meal. He has definitely improved his abilities in the kitchen (even Hunk sometimes asks him to cook something), and he knows he did it for love. It is a warm feeling that creeps up on him when he is so focused that he gets distracted. He will find himself thinking _When Allura tastes this, she’ll say I’m the best_ or _This is grumpy-Keith-proof, he’ll whip the food off his plate without even noticing_.

But maybe this evening, things won’t be like that.

Lance’s smile is less wide but it’s no less of a smile, just a bit melancholic in the corners. Even if the mission wasn’t dangerous, he can’t help but notice how tired both Keith and Allura are as the three of them set on the couch. Lance knows that he should tell them they can postpone their (only) evening together - that semblance of normality they try to find, to live how people their age would like to do after years of fighting - but there’s a side of him, the one he usually tries to shut down because it’s a selfish one, that refuses. They assured him they wanted to watch the movie and ate the dinner he prepared, so it’s fine. The only thing that matters is their answer, nothing else. Not the tired faces nor the momentary lapses.

“Lance, this is delicious!” The round ‘a’ always sounds like a compliment on its own.

Allura is rapt in the pleasant taste, her brows are arched and her eyes shine. For a moment, even her fatigue leaves her. She mutters something else, with her fingers pressed against her lips, in a funny way like she is afraid that some crumb might escape, but it’s a matter of an instant before she licks her fingertips with her natural grace.

“Happy to be of service, princess,” Lance bows with too much flair from his favorite spot at the base of the couch. His reward is another kiss, on the corner of his lips, given by a mouth still chuckling new praises, with the smell of shampoo surrounding them.

Beside her, Keith is not as good at complimenting - something that has to do with their caveman behavior when it comes to admitting the other’s merits; even if Lance likes to point out that he is the most appreciative of the two - but the fact that he has already eaten four tarts speaks for itself. He mumbles something with his mouth fool and Lance sticks his tongue out at him. “You’re welcome, _peasant_.”

The red Paladin’s reply is to flip him off with his left hand, the right one adding another tart, not to interrupt the tasting.

When only the crumbs of the appetizer remains, Lance presses play. The movie is _New Year's Eve_ , a soft choice, because Keith glared at him when he suggested _Die Hard 4_. Then, he crawls back to his favorite spot: on the carpet, his back to the couch, arms crossed over Allura’s legs and his head leaning comfortably on them.

Above him, he can feel the other two set as well; he can imagine another occurrence of a scene that already happened a thousand times, the princess asking Keith to lean his head on her shoulder and their fingers entwining with practiced motions. The three of them got accustomed to serene moments like these. Simple, shared, when knowing to be close is enough for the rest to follow suit.

  


Lance has stopped making comments about the movie for half an hour now and turned down the volume, but he is still watching the scenes unfold. His smile is sad again as he lazily follows an entertainment that no longer distracts him. The silence in the room is cozy, quiet, made of soft noises like the gentle breath of someone sleeping.

Allura and Keith fell asleep not even twenty minutes into the story, leaving the rest of his dinner untouched. Lance realized he was talking to himself after many of his stupid jokes went without a reply, but as much as he was suffering because that was their night, he didn’t nudge them to wake them up. The next day they will all have to leave, he knows they will go and do something important to allow someone like them to have a place to call home, nonetheless it hurts.

Lance feels like he is living on the edge between selfishness and something Hunk called “spirit of self-sacrifice”. He bends day after day on both sides without finding a balance, looking too many times at the past and fantasizing about what the future could hold for them. When he thinks about the present, though, like he is doing now, he wishes he could be someone else, someone logic like Allura or unwavering like Keith.

Lance knows how the movie ends, so he doesn’t bother pausing it to stand and grab something to drink. He lets it go, turning up the volume a bit because the silence would alienate him, otherwise.

When he is back in the living room with a full glass in his hand, he stares at Keith’s and Allura’s figures. They are sleeping soundly; the signs of their tiredness are already fading away and they are so beautiful that his chest hurts at the feeling of belonging he now feels left out of.

He finds himself thinking about possible ways in which he could wake them, with an excuse that would turn on the night between their sheets. Or maybe do a Lance-like thing and say _Oh no, you are missing that scene where they find--!_ and he knows they’ll be instantly on their feet, guilty of giving in to sleepiness. Or maybe he could wake them with affection, a low voice, the same hushed tone he would use with his nieces and nephews to help them to their bed to sleep more comfortably.

The truth is he can’t move in their direction, enter their space and break whatever bubble is surrounding them and making them feel so out of reach.

In the end, he decides to move to the balcony.

  
  


They have had that apartment in Becrilia for almost five months. It is a compromise between not being able to use Earth as a base and wanting to have a place of their own.

Lance is not sure when the Universe will stop needing the Paladins of Voltron to go on walking on its own. So he said yes to Becrilia. A planet Allura chose for strategic reasons - and Coran explained all the positive aspects of physical laws Lance doubts any human will ever understand - and because it vaguely looks like Earth. He was moved by that little gift to him; for how impatient he is to show Allura the wonders of Earth (and Keith as well, because he has reasons to believe he never went past the desert’s sand), he accepted to wait for as long as it takes.

Becrilia has spectacular sunrises and sunsets, but when Lance looks at its sea, he can’t help but compare it to Varadero’s shore. It doesn’t matter that the shade is different, it’s all about the feelings.

In that moment, in front of him, there’s the sea and he looks at it from the bottom of the colorful glass he has just emptied. The purple of the sky is turning to red, while the stars and the three moons are twisted by the massive bumps in the glass.

Looking at the world like this is a pastime he has entertained in for as long as he can remember. His house was never short of colored glasses and moments in which he could peer into reality through them. He can’t remember what he used to imagine as a child, which stories he used to tell himself in turning one day the blue of the sky in a dark green, or the sea in a sweet pink.

It’s a habit, another piece of himself he has found again and he thinks one day he will be able to share with Allura and Keith, when they will finally be able to live without worries.

_Or maybe before_ , but that’s a thought that is interrupted by the blanket that falls over his head and covers his monochromatic kaleidoscope.

“You were sleeping,” he justifies in a whine before someone could say anything.

“You should have woken us up,” is Keith’s tired rumbling as he comes to his side. It’s surprising how even their lines don’t get along and switch places.

“Lance, it’s our night,” echoes Allura, sliding to his other side. She rubs her eye and she doesn’t look like the Altean princess, the girl with the peace of the Universe on her shoulders. She looks like someone who came back from a long day, in a _Pizza is my bae_ pajamas - bought during one of their few trips to Earth - falling down her shoulder in a way that invites Lance to press a quick kiss on the warm skin.

He doesn’t know when it happened, but he doesn’t feel like an outsider anymore. Maybe it’s been when Allura’s fingers found his own, or when Keith’s caressed his back to hold his side and keep him close. He realizes that the moment became theirs again, it’s only the three of them, and the _only_ sounds like the walls of a house where the outside world has no place.

Lance untangles himself for five seconds, just so he can wrap them both with the blanket, like it’s his magic cape, with the ability to bring them together and keep them warm as they look at the constellations in a foreign sky.

Between a growl to his right and a yawn to his left, Lance can count the minutes of happiness, for once pleasantly long.


End file.
